


A Raining Hell

by K_E_D



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Peter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Feral Behavior, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Nightmares, Not A/B/O dynamics, Omega Derek, SPN Post Season 8, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, TW Post Season 3A, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:03:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9570758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_E_D/pseuds/K_E_D
Summary: When Derek left supposedly for good, Peter saw his opportunity to strike.One by one they fell.





	1. Here We Come

**Author's Note:**

> This crossover takes place after Derek left with Cora for Teen Wolf; and after Sam tried to close the gates of hell and the angels fell for Supernatural. I will put an extra warning for Major Character Deaths here, though the majority of them happened prior to the stories beginning (in the months Derek was gone).

“Hey, check this out,” Sam mumbles.

“Man, come on, I thought we were taking a break,” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah, well, you’ve had your break.  Besides, I think we’ve got a case.  Here,” he says.

Dean sighs as the laptop is pushed in his direction.  After the epic fail that was ‘closing hell forever’, Sam had been chasing cases non-stop.  Why he was suddenly healthy and stronger than ever, Dean didn’t have a clue and he was trying not to question it.  This would be the ninth case this month alone and Dean was exhausted, not to mention cranky as fuck.

“Focus, Dean,” Sam snaps.

Dean glares at him, but looks to the screen.  He’d learned over the past few weeks that if he didn’t go along with his brother, Sammy would just take the case on by himself, which was fucking stupid if you asked him.

The article on the screen was from a small town in California, where apparently a ‘serial killer’ was on the loose.  Dean snorts because the chance of the murderer being human is like 80/20.  Though it’s unlikely, he still hopes that it won’t be a case.  If he thinks back on this last month, he’s thinking their kill list is beyond satisfactory.  In fact, it was downright unnecessary.  Just 3 days ago they’d finished dealing with a powerful Poltergeist that almost took Cas’ head off.  The ex-angel was still sleeping off the trauma and healing his wounds.

The week before that it was a nest of vampires, before _that_ a couple of Rugarus, 3 Crocottas, a Wendigo, found a few Jefferson Starships (which he was still a bit panicked over because where the fuck did they come from), 2 Vetalas, and 3 Shapeshifters.  Basically, there were so many monsters creeping out of the dark that Dean’s head was spinning; and Sammy, his drill sergeant of a little brother clearly wanted to hunt down everything they could.  It was starting to get ridiculous and he’ll admit it was worrisome.  This angry, kill everything in sight attitude used to be _him_ , never Sammy.

“Dean,” Sam snaps again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m reading.”

Dean refocuses on the article, which lists 10 murders in the last 4 months and even more before that.  The police had thought the threat was over, seeing as how the killer had been quiet for at least a month.  But obviously he/she/it was just biding its time for a bigger blow.  He scrolls down the page, scanning over the words, until he finally comes to the name of the town and-

“Are you fucking serious with this?” Dean asks, shoving the laptop away.

“Yes, we need to check it out, Dean.”

“The last time we were there, I was almost shot in the face by that chick I picked up.  And when we tried to retaliate, her asshat of a brother almost shot _you_ in the face.  You _do_ remember that?  That hasn’t somehow slipped your mind?”

Sam sighs, like _Dean_ is being the idiot here.

“That was almost 3 years ago, I’m sure they’re over it by now.  Besides, it wasn’t our place to say anything, it was _their_ territory.”

Dean scoffs.  “Yeah, well, when other hunters offer help, you don’t try to _kill_ them, you politely decline,” he snaps.  Sam just rolls his eyes and starts packing a bag.

“Quit being a drama queen.  That was a long time ago and obviously they could use some help if the body count is anything to go by.”  Dean fumes silently, but grudgingly packs his meager belongings and slaps Cas awake.  He groans, slapping Dean back and grumbling about not enough sleep.

“No one likes a whiner, Cas,” Dean calls over his shoulder.

Sam raises a brow at him, but Dean just glares.  What he was doing earlier was _not_ whining and Sam could shove it.  Cas literally rolls to his feet, eyes still closed as he makes his way out to the car.  Dean throws in some last minute toiletries, dawdling as much as he can.

“You sure about this?” he asks, glaring into his bag.

“Yes, Dean, I’m sure,” Sam sighs, losing patience.  Dean zips the bags closed with more force than necessary.

“Fine.  If we get our faces blown off, it’s your fault.”

Sam just grins, a bit manically, and says “Beacon Hills here we come.”


	2. Heads or Tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Heads I go home, tails I keep running.”

_“I’m sorry, Derek, but I’m not coming back.  I need to strike out on my own, find a pack that I can be safe with.  We’re not a pack, brother, and we were never going to be.  I hope you find what you’re looking for, I really do.  I want you to be happy, Der-bear, but I can’t be the reason for that happiness.  If you’re ever in trouble, you know who to call.  They would take you back in a heartbeat, you know that.  I’m sure we’ll see each other again someday, but until then…be safe, Derek, I love you.”_

Derek replays the message over and over again, though by now he’s memorized the entire thing.  The phone slips from his fingers, landing on the ceramic table he’s perched himself at.  Four months together and she just picked up and left, with only that message as her goodbye.  He knew things hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing, but had it gotten so bad she needed to leave him?

He slumps further into the booth, berating himself for his stupidity.  He’ll never admit it out loud, but yes, it _had_ gotten that bad, _he_ had gotten that bad.  It was the right thing for her to leave, Derek wasn’t any good for her.  They’d fought constantly and he had, on more than one occasion, lost control and attacked her.  Cora had put up with a lot of shit and he shouldn’t be surprised that she gave up.  Everyone gives up on him sooner or later.  He should probably give up too.

A waitress saunters up to him, smile widening as her eyes travel over him.

“Can I get you a beverage, sir?” she asks.

“Coffee is fine,” he replies.

The girl literally _bats her eyelashes_ at him before she leaves, her hips swaying so much he thinks she might break something.  Derek sighs and glares out the window.  He hadn’t slept with anyone since Jennifer and he didn’t plan to.  Fate was clearly trying to tell him something and he got the message loud and clear.  It was an endless cycle: fall in love and/or have sex, betray or be betrayed, lover inevitably dies a horrible death.  His love life was something out a fucking horror movie and he was just done.

“Your coffee, sir,” the waitress says.  She places a mug in front of him and pours the dark liquid into it.  “Cream or sugar?”

“No,” he grunts.

His attitude seems to only rile her up more, which he’s never understood.  A guy is rude to you and you want to fuck him even more?  Makes no sense to him.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” she asks.

“No,” he says again.

Her smile falters only for a second, before she’s trying even harder, leaning close to him and touching his arm.

“Okay, well, I’ll be right over there if you need something, honey,” she says, winking.

Derek scowls at the hand on his arm and she quickly retracts it before sashaying away.  He rubs his forehead, a rare headache blooming at the annoyance that was this entire day.  As he sips his coffee, he thinks about what Cora said.  She seemed to think that Scott would let him join his pack, but he doubted it.  As of right now, he was an omega and that honestly freaked him the fuck out.  Never in his life had he ever been an omega.  Even when Laura died and he was alone, he still technically had Peter, even if he was supposedly in a coma.  Plus, there’d been Scott.  No, the boy never wanted to join him, but Derek held onto their connection.  He’d figured it was better to be in a pack with someone who hated him, than be completely alone.  When he finally left Beacon Hills with Cora, he severed all ties he’d made, thinking that they could start over, just the two of them.

But then the nightmares came back and he became paranoid, moving them from place to place, never settling for too long.  Cora wanted to rent an apartment in San Francisco, but Derek always told her no, that they needed to establish their pack first, needed to find an Alpha again.

_You’re not a pack without an Alpha_.

His mother’s words haunted him even to this day.  She made it clear that if they were to ever branch out on their own, that the first thing they needed to do was find a willing Alpha to take them in, or become one themselves.  She had discouraged that second option, not wanting her children to be killers.  _Well, not wanting Laura and Cora to be killers_.  By the time they’d gotten that speech, he’d already taken a life.  Though she said she still loved him and that he was still ‘good’, he never really believed it.  Then _Kate_ happened and it was obvious that he must be evil because who the fuck knowingly dates a hunter?  _Scott did_ , his brain supplies.  Somehow, the kid’s relationship with her hadn’t ended in complete disaster.  Therefore, that was even more proof that Derek was just fucked up or something.  He hadn’t given it a name until Jennifer, but he officially believed he was cursed, there was no other explanation.

Well, there was always the explanation of him just being shit at making decisions, but he refused to let that train of thought go anywhere.  That way led to even more self-loathing and guilt and him eventually jumping off the highest building he can find, so… _no…_

Derek gulps his coffee, temporarily burning his tongue.  It honestly didn’t taste very good, but he needed the caffeine.  He had a decision to make.  Cora’s way of making decisions was to make a list of pros and cons and then organize each route until there were no more possible outcomes.  He considered it for a minute, but then said fuck it and took out a quarter.

“Heads I go back, tails I keep moving,” he mutters.

He secretly hopes it lands on tails because he doesn’t want to face Beacon Hills or the people, the _teenagers_ , he left behind.  Derek flips the coin into the air, watching it sparkle in the dim lighting before hitting the table.

“Shit,” he grumbles.  It _would_ land on heads.  “Two out of three,” he says.  Yes, he realized he was talking to himself, but who gives a shit?

Derek flips the coin once more and it lands on heads again.  Sighing, he flips the coin at least a dozen times and _every single fucking time_ it landed on _heads_.  He slams the coin down on the table just as the waitress reappears.

“Something wrong?” she asks.

“Yes, this coin is defective,” he snaps.  She raises a brow and he glares at her.  “Do you have a quarter?”

“Um…yes?  Why do you need-”

“I told you, this one’s defective,” he snaps again.

Instead of being offended, she snorts and hands a quarter over.  She watches in amusement as he flips it about five different times, growing angry when it _kept landing on heads_.  On the sixth try, he chucks the quarter at the wall with a frustrated “What the fuck?!”

The waitress giggles and picks it up.  “Want me to try?”

Derek scowls, but motions for her to go ahead.

“And what are the two decisions?” she asks.  He glares, but she doesn’t seem fazed.

“Heads I go home, tails I keep running,” he answers.  Her eyes go all soft and _no_ , he doesn’t want pity, what is she even pitying him for?  “Are you gonna flip it or not?”

She sighs, but flips the coin.  It lands on heads.

“Do it again,” he demands.

This could not be fucking happening.  She does it twice more before he snatches it out of the air.  He looks it over, making sure it did actually have a side that was tails.  It did.

“Not that it’s any of my business, but maybe it’s a sign,” the girl says.  Derek glances up at her and she smiles softly.  “Clearly something’s telling you to go home,” she says and pats his shoulder.

She places the check on the table and then walks away to serve another customer.  Derek wants to fight it, but he knows this complete stranger has a point.  Where the fuck else was he going to go anyway?  He had no idea which direction Cora went, not that he really wants to track her down anyway.  She was better off without him.  Which is the exact reason he left in the first place.  Scott and his pack were better off without him.

_But you need them, Derek_.  _Go home._

The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Laura and not once in his life had he disobeyed her orders.  She wanted him to go back?  Fine, he’d go back.

Derek pays for his coffee and ignores the phone number written at the bottom of the check.  Once back in his car, he cranks up the stereo and rolls down the windows.  It would take him at least 5 hours to reach Beacon Hills and he didn’t plan on stopping until he was there.  If he did, he knew he’d chicken out and turn around.

He places his clearly _un_ lucky quarter in the cup holder and glares at it one last time.

“Beacon Hills it is then.  You win.”

**Author's Note:**

> I won't guarantee quick updates for this, as I write multiple stories at once (some new, some old). Feel free to leave comments or ask questions. If I failed to tag or warn for anything, please let me know.


End file.
